Half-Tucked

Emmauelle Alt can do it, and so can you! A half-tucked shirt that doesn't seem messy or careless has always eluded me, although my affection for worn cotton tees may have contributed to this. When my tee is half-tucked, I look like I'd might as well give up and roll back into bed. However, I adore the idea of a top half-tucked into a pair of shorts for summer. Here are two ways to pull this off:

1. Take a note from Emmanuelle Alt and accessorize consciously: it's difficult to look like a slob if you're also wearing an embellished leather jacket and thigh-high boots. Oh, has the temperature increased by 50 degrees in the past three days (cough Chicago cough)? A belt, a few bracelets and a sweet pair of aviators do the trick; together, they show the thought and care put into the ensemble.

2. Upgrade from the plain tee: silk blouses or oversized button-downs offer a little breathing room, which is perfect for hot summer days. I love to pair silk tanks by Joie with denim shorts and flat sandals. It's still a casual and effortless look, but the material and cut of the tank lend a much-needed dose of polish.

[photo cred to 1 and 2, both via Have Less Be More]

Say Yes...

...Yes to cool shade and green grass.

Yes to finishing undergraduate classes!

Yes to baked blueberry oatmeal.

Yes to Northwestern. There. I said it.

Yes to snarky cover letters.

Yes to Amy Poehler's commencement speech at Harvard.

Yes to a long and beautiful weekend!

[photo cred here via That Kind of Woman]

The Burning House

Have you read The Burning House, a blog on which users submit photos of the items they'd take if their house was burning? I've been fascinated by what objects prove to be most significant to people — paintings, plants, animal figurines. The pets are my favorite; they always look so puzzled in the photos. I decided to do my own and was actually surprised by what I chose:

(from upper left, clockwise-ish)

1. My baby blanket. Please. There's no way in hell that I would leave this behind.
2. My Moleskine journal. Every few months or so, I come up with a really great one-liner and write it down. I'd also be terribly embarrassed if this were salvaged from the hypothetical ashes and someone read it.
3. My mini Moleskine journal. One-liners on the go!
4. A photo of my cousin Kristyn, who passed away when she was seven.
5. An anthology of the Paris Review, which I haven't read yet, and The Elegance of the Hedgehog, which I want to read again and again.
6. A flask, because my hypothetical house is on fire and I probably need some gin.
7. A glass figurine from Venice of a cat with a fish in its stomach. I find it morbid... and awesome.
8. My coaster collection indulges my kleptomaniac side. The one on top is from Sepia, a restaurant in the West Loop of Chicago.
9. A painting of the Eiffel Tower. Surprise! Not.
10. An Emilio Pucci scarf. No explanation needed.
11. Satin Marc by Marc Jacobs boat shoes, which I've worn for six years and counting. Adorable, comfortable, and completely impractical. Where am I ever going to find another pair of satin boat shoes?
12. Philosophy di Alberta Ferretti jacket. I just love it.
14. My alarm clock. This is just one of those comfort objects that make a room feel like home. I've had it forever and still schlep it back and forth from NY to Chicago, even for short, weeklong breaks.


What would you choose? If you have done or would like to do this, I'd love to see!


[First photo by Jordan Brown]

Bacon Chocolate Chip Biscotti

Bacon chocolate chip biscotti was the lovechild of myself and my best friend, as we're big fans of both chocolate and bacon. However, most of our baking is limited to things that exist in boxed form, so we decided to make this from-scratch recipe a collective effort. Some people questioned the bacon-chocolate marriage and/or expressed complete disgust at the idea, but the saltiness of the bacon and sweetness of the chocolate chips complement one another so well. The biscotti was crumbly and not too rich, while the smokiness of the bacon didn't at all overpower it. We loved it, and it was super simple to make.

Bacon Chocolate Chip Biscotti

[adapted from SeriousEats.com]

7 strips of bacon

2 c all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

3/4 c granulated sugar

1/2 c (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened but not melted

2 large eggs

1 c semisweet chocolate chips

1. Fry the bacon over medium heat until crisp, about five minutes. Drain on a plate lined with paper towels. Allow to cool. Place in a food processor and pulse until roughly chopped, then set aside. Feel free to rip open the bag of chocolate chips and drink some wine.

2. Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl, cream together the butter and sugar with an electric handmixer until fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, and beat to combine. Add dry mixture to wet and beat to blend. Toss in bacon and chocolate chips. Gather dough into a ball and divide in half. 

3. Divide dough into two balls and roll them in plastic wrap.

4. Place dough in the fridge for 20-30 minutes. Start watching Beauty & the Beast.

5. Preheat oven to 350-degrees. Take dough out of fridge and, on a floured surface, roll into two 12" to 14" logs. Place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Bake until golden and dry to the touch, about 30 minutes. Continue to watch Beauty & the Beast.

4. Remove baking sheet from oven and reduce the temperature to 300-degrees. Allow logs to cool for 15 minutes. With a serrated knife, cut logs into 1/2-inch slices on an angle. Space slices apart, standing upright, and bake until golden, about 20 to 30 minutes.

Voilà!

Wine & Cheese

A lot of great things happened this weekend — for one, the creepy haze that has been lingering over Chicago finally cleared up — but everything pales in comparison to the most delicious dinner I have eaten in quite a long time. You know that a restaurant is promising if it a) has no website (although this could work against it), and b) the Yelp reviews read something like, "I don't even want to post a review because people are going to come here in droves."

My friend from Allure was in town for the weekend and I chose a place called DiSotto Enoteca. It's an underground cavern of a wine bar that features small antipasti plates, like an Italian version of tapas, with incredibly intimate and old-world ambiance. I ordered a glass of Chianti (my staple) and then tried a spicy French Syrah (decent, but no Chianti or Malbec). Then, I ordered a plate of taleggio cheese and fig compote, which I followed up with portobello, fontina and rosemary bruschetta. I began to miss the taste of taleggio and thus ordered pear, taleggio and toasted pecan bruschetta. Then we shared a chocolate cake. As it happens, saturated fat and I are having a very torrid love affair at the moment..

If you're ever in the Chicago area, go go go. I promise it's wonderful. I'll meet you there. I'll help you out with that cheese and bruschetta and chocolate cake.

So how was your weekend?!


[photo cred to 1 and 2]

Say Yes...

...to light blazers and cool breezes.

Yes to croissants and pastries and raspberry jam.

Yes to Modern Family...

...and to Sofia Vergara, in particular.

Yes to books that turn reading for class into reading for pleasure.

Yes to making plans and checking off your To Do list.

Yes to Randy Pausch and childhood dreams.

Yes to le week-end, mes petits choux!

[photo cred here]

Breakfast Interrupted

BSS | Breakfast Interrupted from Bruton Stroube Studios on Vimeo.

Breakfast was already my favorite meal of the day ... and then this happened.

Chambray Style

I know I wax poetic about silk and sequins, but I can't deny the fact that I'm a sucker for a good tee. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways... tees look great with skinny jeans and a pair of Bensimons (I'm going to mention my new kicks in every post this week, for I've worn them since they appeared on my doorstep and they've actually rendered me incapable of wearing anything else). Tees are simple enough to tuck into a frilly masterpiece of a skirt. Tees are soft, comfortable, and unbelievably flattering when you have the right fit and material (I love anything by James Perse, and my best friend swears by Madewell's artisan tees).

But sometimes (and I can't believe I'm about to say this), my tees get a little old. Maybe not old — a bit worn, if you will. After eight seasons, my tee needs a supporting actor to swoop in and help it win an Emmy. You know who that superstar is? Chambray. I get that this is old news, but here's the thing: the typical blue wash and classic shape just aren't doing it for me, so one of them needs to change. This is what separates an Emmy Award-winning supporting actor from the masses:

A ha! See, not slow on picking up the trend (which would make me a terrible style blogger); I'm just tweaking the trend to my own tastes. If I'm going to sell-out, I'm obviously going to do it for something a) grey, like this shirt by Rag & Bone on the left, or b) cut longer and reminiscent of oversized men's shirts, such as this J.Crew tunic. Are you a sucker for either one of these or more about the classic chambray shirt (which, of course, is a classic for a reason)?


[photo cred to 1 and 2, both via havelessbemore]

Touch of Blush

Blush hues strike the happy medium between in-your-face fuchsia and subdued beige neutrals. I love how they can add a dose of pretty, feminine color to an otherwise neutral outfit, like that on the left. On the other hand, blush works as a nude when paired with a cheery shade like rich, buttery gold. I'm usually more partial to the first look (I've never met a leather jacket I didn't like), but those lace sleeves and that clutch have me switching teams faster than Santana from Glee.

I had quite a productive weekend, thanks to the rain and chills all too reminiscent of March. I caught up on reading, went to the gym (twice!), and even made time to go to Violet Hour in Wicker Park. After Violet Hour, which had the most delicious drinks (I ordered a Juliet & Romeo, a lovely creation with Beefeater gin, cucumber, mint and rose water), we popped across the street for a completely different change of scenery at the Texas-themed Big Star. You know those pockets of time when everything in the world seems wholly and utterly perfect? My friends briefly disappeared and, while I sat alone with a Lone Star beer in one hand and a pork belly taco in other, I looked around at all of the laughing twenty-somethings and red twinkle lights and thought, "Well, this is pretty stellar."

And so it was. How was your weekend?!


P.S. The grey pair of Bensimon sneakers won out (in last week's post). Thank you so much—I loved hearing your advice!
[photo cred to 1 and 2]

Mamihlapinatapai

There's a word in Yahgan, the language of Terra del Fuego, that means: "a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start." Adorable, right?

Mamihlapinatapai.

[photo cred here]

The French Converse

I've wanted a pair of Bensimon sneakers ever since I read that they're the French girls' Converse. That's the best marketing ploy ever —just throw the word "French" in front of anything and I'm sold. French fries? Check. French toast? Yep. French braids? So pretty. French kisses? ...I don't kiss and tell. But yes.

I was exceptionally loyal to my beat-up, classic red Keds until last weekend, when they managed to bore a hole through my ankle. It was a highly unpleasant experience, and ever since I dedicated my column in Prep Talk to the merits of a cool, laid-back pair of kicks, I've been gazing lovingly at this pair of Bensimon vintage sneakers (available here):

Hello, lover. It's like Carrie Bradshaw with her Manolos, but for the lazy girl who wants neither to try too hard nor stumble into a gutter on her way to class. My issue (I always have an issue) is that although grey is my favorite color, the black pair is tugging at my heartstrings. I can't decide. Help a terribly indecisive girl out — which do you like?

[photo cred here]

Farmers' Market

How was your weekend? I went to the farmers' market on Saturday morning, where I found fresh eggs, bunches of lilac, and plump mushrooms. I then promptly swept past the kale and spinach and instead, bought my first chocolate cake ball ever (a hunk of chocolate cake smothered in chocolate frosting and perched on a stick ... yep). I went back for a second. And a third. In total, I ate three and a half. They were so good, moist and crumbly and sweet and delicious. A foolproof proposal would be to hide the ring in one of these babies (I don't care if I accidentally eat the ring). I'm having a meltdown just thinking about them. I love you, chocolate cake balls.

Here's a tip, though: it's vaguely awkward when a boy meets you at the said farmers' market and you have to skirt around the chocolate stand because people recognize you and say things like, "Back again?" instead of telling you about the spot of chocolate on your nose. And then HE buys a chocolate cake ball and you stand there trying not to rip it out of his hands.

In other news, I've found what seems to be a foolproof recipe for chocolate chip bacon biscotti. I'll be back with updates on their development tomorrow!

[photo cred to 1 and 2]

Say Yes...

...yes to breezy days and light jackets.

Yes to first kisses.
Yes to Saturday morning farmers' markets.
Yes to the house from Home Alone, which is on the market...
...and already has a DIY security system in place.

Yes to mothers everywhere...

...and to mine, who has a conveniently long layover at O'Hare on Sunday!

(I'm so excited to see my mom. So. Excited.)
Happy mother's day!

[photo cred here]

About Last Night

I'm dying to show you pictures, but I'm torn (they're embarrassing). My camera fizzled out an hour or two into the crush party and I failed to get a proper photo of the dress. However, I did snag an embarrassing mirror picture with my cell phone to show my handiwork to my mother. First, here's a vaguely respectable photo of myself and my roommates (the theme was Get Your Game On, and, from left to right, we're White Sox fan, Sporcle, Princess Lolly from Candyland, and Jigglypuff), in which you can see my new haircut:

I LOVE IT. The layers are a little funky at the moment, as the stylist completely failed to acknowledge that I wear my hair with a side part (even after I mentioned it) and instead, cut it with a center part in mind. I'll get them to behave eventually. I've had several variations of short hair ever since seventh grade (pixie, bob, grown-out bob, rinse, wash, repeat), and I feel so much more like myself without having eight pounds of wild and uncontrollable curls on my head. Plus, when your grandmother says you look like a "sexy hussy" and doesn't mean it as a compliment, you know it's time to snip.

Here's a picture of the dress, the notoriously MySpace-quality one that gives me horrible flashbacks to high school. I decided that if I Tweeted it, I'd might as well post it here:

Unfortunately, I'm sorry to report that Jigglypuff lost an eye in last night's festivities. Then again, I misplaced my dignity, so I'm calling it even.

Crush Party

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have noticed that I've been spending an awful lot of time sewing. My Italian grandmother was a seamstress and my dad sutures gum tissue for a living, so I'm not terrible with a needle and thread. For my sorority's spring crush party, called Get Your Game On, everyone dons a pair of sneakers or an oversized jersey. I thought about it. It bored me.

And then I realized that I should purposefully misinterpret the meaning of Get Your Game On and apply it to one of my most beloved pastimes: Pokémon. To be specific, I'm dressing up as Jigglypuff, because she's fairly well-known and easier to recreate than, say, Ampheros. (I'd be embarrassed, but I can pin this on the Asian half of my gene pool). So I bought an adorable dress at American Apparel (though I still loathe Dov Charney), picked up a few scraps of cloth and got to work. Here's the nearly-finished product:

I just have to stitch the details on and adjust the placement, but it's not too shabby, right? I promise I'll post pictures afterwards. Plus, I'm getting a haircut this morning (finally! I decided on a grown-out, shoulder-grazing bob with side bangs), so throughout the next few days, Mellow Fever is going to be inundated with amusing photos of the shoddiest quality.

A Day in May

May is my favorite month — daylight lingers, the breeze is warm but not sweltering, the trees burst into whites and pinks, crickets begin chirping at night again. May had better not have an identity crisis and resign itself to weeks of rain, though (cough spring in Chicago cough); on the bright side, I get to practice my willpower by walking past tulips and not bolting back to my apartment with a stolen bouquet in hand. I used to do a number on my parents' landscaping handiwork and blame it on the rampant hordes of deer that live by my house. Mom and dad weren't amused... plus, it was pretty obvious when their Dutch tulips somehow found their way into a vase and onto my dresser.

Days in May should always consist of:

Milkshakes. Particularly the kind made with crushed Oreos
from Edzo's (the place I'll miss most when I leave Evanston). 

Laying in the sun, preferably on something soft and luxurious.

Or outside, somewhere new but no less luxurious.

Fresh-cut flowers. You deserve them, damn it.

A chic haircut... particularly this wavy bob.

[photo cred to 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5]